


Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by NotCallingYouALiar



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Arkham Asylum, F/M, Gun Violence, Knives, Ledger Joker - Freeform, Nolanverse Harley Quinn, Nolanverse Joker, One Shot, Post-Movie: The Dark Knight (2008), Sexual Tension, Short Story, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotCallingYouALiar/pseuds/NotCallingYouALiar
Summary: Inspired by Stjepan Šejić’s Harleen and set in post TDK Gotham, Dr. Harleen Quinzel finds herself stuffed in the bottom of the barrel too many times. She takes her life back into her own hands through the guise of treating the infamous “agent of chaos”.Short story, Ledger Joker x Nolanverse Harley Quinn, post TDK
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Part 1

_Gotham city sure has a way of chewin’ you up and spittin’ you back out._   
_An Ivy League education, countless hours of study, rubbing elbows with all the right people and it still isn’t enough to get a leg up in this god forsaken place._   
_Alright, so I might be a little bitter, but can you blame me?_

  
_I had dreams once. I think every young psychologist does. At first. Struttin’ out into the world, their brand new lab coat still white and crispy, head full of ideals about how they’re gonna singlehandedly fix all the world’s problems. They haven’t been beaten into the ground yet. They haven’t been tangled up in all the red tape, haven’t faced the politicians, board rooms, and chiefs of staff talking to you like you’ve never seen a grant proposal before. Its like givin’ a presentation to a brick wall. But that wall holds all the cash you need for your research and it feels like no amount of schmoozin’ will get ‘em to do anything but stare at you._

  
_I thought I landed my dream job. Staff psychologist at The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Now that was a title I could sink my teeth into. I thought I really had a chance to show them what I could accomplish. That I could rehabilitate, I could heal. But instead it opened my eyes and showed me something different. Behind the sweet perfume of niceties, the “how are you”s and “do anything fun this weekend”s, is the sour smell of hypocrisy. Nobody gives a shit about anything but themselves. They’ll tell you they’re your side, but when it comes time to step up and face the bullshit, you’re left all alone in the dark. I started to realize something. Maybe the rehabilitation doesn’t need to happen in here. It needs to happen out there._

“Dr. Quinzel, you’re late. Close the door behind you.”

  
Harleen blinked and turned to close the door to Dr. Strange’s office, taking the opportunity to roll her eyes with her back momentarily turned to the man. It was two minutes past eight on Monday morning and she’d received a note that he wanted to see her first thing in the morning as soon as she got to her desk, prompting a rush down the hall to his office. 

  
“I heard about your recent session with Mister Crane. You know that isn’t how we approach things here, Dr. Quinzel,” he said, looking at her over the rim of his glasses. 

  
Her jaw tensed and she put her fists in the pockets of her lab coat before replying coolly, “I understand that, Dr. Strange, but traditional therapy methods aren’t going to do him any good. He needs to recognize the underlying reasons for his thoughts and behaviors in order to then reshape them.”

  
She could tell he wasn’t really listening to her, his eyes focused on the wall behind her.   
“What you need to understand is that you don’t make the rules. We have protocols here for a reason. Safety is my top priority and I don’t need you getting the patients all riled up, understood?”

  
Harleen stared back at him as he folded his fingers together to rest his hands on the desk in front of him. “Of course,” she answered in a soft voice, squeezing her nails into her palms. “Protocol is important.”

  
He blinked back at her and motioned toward the door for her to let herself out. She stopped outside in the hall to take a deep breath, her eyes closed. _You can fight tooth and nail to make a difference in this world but someone is always one step ahead of you, ready to shove you back in your cage._

  
She blew out a sigh from between her lips and turned to slowly walk down the hall, back to her dark and dingy office. It didn’t take long for the words on the case files in front of her to start to blur together, her chin in her hand, elbow propped on the cold metal desk while she attempted to read up on the new patients she was being assigned. Typical homicide, breaking and entering, robbery. _Its like puttin’ the hotshot rookie on the bench for the last inning._

  
The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly, each passing minute slower than the last.   
Once the monotony was more than she could stand any longer, Dr. Quinzel left the confines of her office to get some fresh air. Her footsteps echoed off the walls of the time-honored building on her way to the courtyard. It was almost as if the place was cursed, the screams of its former inhabitants built into the foundation, doomed to repeat history with the same antiquated and arcane methods, keeping the inhumane and cruel hidden behind its closed doors. She turned to swipe her badge at the door to the outside but was stopped by Dr. Sinner.

  
“Dr. Quinzel! How was your weekend?”

  
 _Jesus fucking Christ._ “It was fine, Dr. Sinner, and how was yours” she asked in return, turning toward him and fighting the urge to spit in his face. 

  
Dr. Sinner lived quite comfortably in Strange’s back pocket, head of the department, a real brown-noser. His family’s reputation gifted him respect he didn’t earn and the man was nothing if not predictable. _Got out on the green, played a few holes, dinner with the family, good weekend._

  
“Ohh got out on the green, played a few holes, dinner with the family, good weekend!” he answered with a contented sigh. 

  
Harleen nodded and pulled the corners of her mouth into a smile. _Let’s play a little game._ “Sounds like a good weekend. Have you spoken with Dr. Strange recently?”

  
“A short while ago, yes. Looks like we have a few new incoming patients this week.”

  
“Yes we do. I’m looking forward to working with them,” she replied, keeping eye contact. “You carry a lot of authority around here, don’t you? Know of any high profile cases?”

  
_Tell the peacock he’s beautiful and he’ll give you a feather._

  
Dr. Sinner straightened his posture and cleared his throat before responding, “Well I suppose I do. Well, um, I assume you’ve been keeping up with the news?”

  
She raised her eyebrows, already liking where this was going. “I have.”

  
She kept her eyes on his, not letting him avoid her gaze while he debated on whether he should divulge what he knows. When he didn’t respond, she continued, “I assume it’s related to Batman’s disappearance last week?”

  
Did she already know? He couldn’t be sure. Either way, it wasn’t going to stay under wraps for long, despite Commissioner Gordon’s best efforts. “It does. It’s a bit of a sensitive case,” he finally answered. 

  
“Oh, I understand. It seems like Dr. Strange would want play that pretty close to the chest, save for a few trusted colleagues,” she said with a smile. “Well, only a matter of time until it travels down the grape vine, I suppose.”

  
It didn’t take much for Sinner’s need to prove his authority to get the best of him. 

“That’s true, it is. But, um, I’d consider you a candidate for the case if you’re up for a challenge, Dr. Quinzel.”

  
Her smile widened to show her teeth, “You have my attention, Dr. Sinner.”

  
Closing the door to one of the empty security offices, Dr. Sinner took a flash drive from his pocket and sat down at the desk to plug it into the computer. Harleen looked over his shoulder while he clicked a file labeled “PATIENT CASE #0801”. 

  
She curled her lip into her mouth to bite it anxiously. She knew who it had to be, there’s no doubt he’d end up here, she just had to get herself closer to the case. 

  
He opened a video file and footage of a darkened room with tiled walls came onto the screen. There was a metal table in the center with a small desk lamp giving off only a narrow beam of light. She squinted at the image, waiting for something to happen. Then she heard voices.

  
“Harvey Dent never made it home.”

  
“Of course not.”

  
It was him. She froze, holding her breath while she listened closely, her eyes focused intensely on the screen.

  
“What have you done with him?”

“ _Me_? I was right here! Who did you leave him with? _Hmm_? _Your_ people? Assuming of course they are _still_ your people and not Maro-ni’s… Does it depress you, Commissioner? To know… just how _alone_ you really are. Does it make you feel responsible for Harvey Dent’s current _pre-dicament_?”

  
Harleen started to breathe faster. She’d seen glimpses of him on the news, but had never heard him speak for this long. She felt hypnotized, drawn in by his voice, and she couldn’t even see his face yet. 

  
“Where is he?”

  
“Whats the time?”

  
“What difference does that make?”

  
“Well, depending on the _time_ , he may be in one spot or _sever-al_.”

  
He’s the one who’s been captured but he still has the upper hand, he’s in control. He revels in dangling the carrot right in front of their noses, but not letting them have it. Not until he gets what he wants. 

  
She knew this footage existed. Interrogation room, MCU, Gotham City downtown, 27 July 2008, 9:57 pm, arrest interview, name unknown, alias The Joker. After spending only a few hours there, he escaped, taking a fleet of squad cars and leaving behind thousands of dollars of damage. Less than a week later, he was captured by GCPD SWAT at the Prewitt building after imploding Gotham General Hospital then causing an emergency city evacuation. Charged with aggravated robbery, three counts of conspiracy to commit murder, ten counts of possession of an explosive device, three counts of detonation of an explosive device, three counts of attempted homicide, fifteen counts of aggravated homicide, one hundred seventy five counts of aggravated kidnapping, desecration of a body, ten counts of aggravated assault, two counts of terroristic threat, impersonating a police officer, five counts of arson, eight counts of conspiracy to commit assault on an officer, four counts of vehicular theft, obstruction of justice, aggravated escape from custody, and conspiracy to possess a weapon of mass destruction. Status: extremely dangerous. 

  
She heard the clink of metal against metal and the buzz of the room’s door unlocking before creaking open and closed. Then a blinding light switched on and her breath hitched when she saw him, just as his head was slammed onto the table by the bat vigilante who’d appeared behind him. 

  
“Never start with the head! The victim gets all _fuzzy_ , he can’t feel the next – ” The Bat’s fist came down on his hand, hard, but he appeared unfazed. “ _See_?”

  
“You wanted me, here I am,” Batman grumbled in his signature deep rasp. 

  
“I wanted to see what you’d do. And ya didn’t disappoint.” She leaned in toward the screen as he leaned in toward Batman. “You let five people die… _then_ you let Dent take your place. Even to a guy like me, that’s _cold_!”

  
Her heart was in her throat. He was so… menacing. But you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. His mannerisms were sporadic, unsettling, but there was a fluidity to his movements, a hidden grace. If you blinked, you’d miss it. She couldn’t keep her eyes off his pink tongue darting out of his mouth as he spoke. Then he laughed.

  
The high pitched giggle made her stomach quiver as he bounced gleefully in his seat. He was having the time of his life. He loved nothing more than egging on the Bat to chase him, join him in a deadly game of cat and mouse. They were the antithesis of each other. Moral opposites. The perfect foes. 

  
“You… You. Complete. _Me_ ,” Joker beseeched him sarcastically. 

  
“You’re garbage who kills for money.”

  
“Don’t talk like one of them, you’re _not_! Even if you’d like to be… To them you’re just a _freak_. _Like me_. They need you right now, but when the don’t… they’ll cast you out…”

  
Then he started to break the Bat down, tear him apart, make him doubt, threaten to take away the sense of right and wrong he held so dear.

  
“… you see their morals, their _code_. It’s a bad _joke_. Dropped at the first sign of _trouble_... They’re only as good as the world allows them to be. I’ll show you, when the chips are down, these, uhh, these _civilized_ people, they’ll _eat_ each other.”

  
Harleen’s pulse raced as she stared, unblinking, at Joker’s face. She couldn’t shake this feeling…

  
“See, I’m not a monster… I’m just ahead of the curve.”

  
… that he was right.

  
Batman pulled him across the table by his shirt and pulled him up to slam his back against the wall. But Joker was still wasn’t disconcerted. Batman had to break the rules to know the truth… _The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules._

  
“… and tonight _you’re gonna break your one rule_.” 

  
The words Joker growled sent blood rushing to Harleen’s ears and she couldn’t hear anything else as she watched Batman toss him around like a rag doll, his punches not inciting fear or anguish, only Joker’s cackling laughter, useless against his unbreakable antagonist.

  
“You have _nothing_ , nothing to threaten me with. Nothing to do with all your strength.” 

  
The Bat took the bait. Then the video cut to footage of Joker sitting against the wall of that same room, broken glass above him from where his head was slammed into it, an officer standing guard at the door. He said he wanted his phone call. When his demand was met with no action, he started asking the officer questions. 

  
“How many of your friends… have I _killed_?”

  
This one took the bait even faster. Six of his friends. 

  
“D’you wanna know… why I use a _knife_? Guns are too quick. You can’t sa-vor all the little… _emotions_.” Goosebumps raised up Harleen’s arms and her fingers twitched. “You see, in their last _moments_ , people show you who they really are. So, in a _way_ , I know your friends better than you ever did. Would you like to know which of them were cowards?”

  
A little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before she watched the officer approach him to be quickly overtaken as Joker grabbed a large shard of glass from above him and seized the officer from behind to hold it to his throat.

  
“ _All_ of them,” he growled, turning his hostage toward the two-way mirror. Soon the door opened and he kicked at the officer’s feet to nudge him out the door. Then the screen went black. 

  
She was still frozen, staring at the computer screen, her heart pounding in her chest when Dr. Sinner turned to her.

  
“Terrifying, isn’t he?” he asked. 

  
Harleen blinked and forced her attention away from the blank screen. “Yeah… terrifying,” she said quietly. 

  
“So far, we’re not sure what to do with his case. It’d be a challenge to say the least. Probably a lost cause. Dr. Strange can barely handle keeping the press away already, we’re close to saying just lock him up and throw away the –”

  
“I’ll treat him,” she interrupted. 

  
Dr. Sinner paused to furrow his brow before asking, “Are you sure? Like I said, it’ll be a challenge.”

  
She finally looked away from the screen to meet Dr. Sinner’s eyes with her’s. “I’m up for a challenge.”

  
———

  
Anxiety swirled in her belly as Harleen’s heels clicked on the floor on her way down a long hallway, cutting through deafening silence like a knife. The tension in the air surrounding the guards stationed outside the treatment room was stifling. They kept their gazes straight ahead, facing the wall, avoiding the two way mirror next to them. 

  
She half expected that the board wouldn’t give her the case. Why would they allow her such an opportunity? They never have before. But it wasn’t like that at all. She knew they expected to break her, squash her confidence, knock her down a few pegs, convince her to play along like the rest them. But they were wrong. She had other plans. 

  
A loud buzz rang out followed by a click before she pulled the heavy steel door open and stepped into the dimly lit room. The plastic-lined padded walls muffled her footsteps as she approached the table in the middle of the room, her eyes down. Her legs started to tremble and her heart pounded harshly against her ribs. It was like her instincts reverted to somewhere primal, like prey approaching the predator’s den, telling her to run. But she pushed past it, taking in the rush of the adrenaline flooding her veins, using it, she wasn’t prey. 

  
“Ahh, so I’ve earned myself a brain wrangler, hm?”

  
His voice sent a shiver down her back and she darted her gaze up from the floor. He sat at the other side of the table, facing her, dressed in an orange jumpsuit with his wrists in handcuffs with the chain looped through a metal bar, anchoring him to the table. His faded green hair was pushed back from his face, his bare face, his features unobscured by layers of ghastly greasepaint. Her stomach fluttered as her eyes traveled over it, his heavy-lidded gaze looking back at her. His scars were somehow even more prominent without the paint, the gnarled pink tissue standing out against his skin tone. Without the suit, without the paint, he was still hypnotizing.

  
“I guess you could call me that,” she replied calmly, sitting down in the chair opposite him.

  
It was even more powerful up close, that thrill he gave off. She started to feel something bubbling up from inside of her, pins and needles prickling in her hands.

  
Joker smirked and said, “A well earned title. Well what _else_ do I call ya, doc?”

  
Her eyes met his and her heart did somersaults. When he looked back at her, she saw nothing but her own reflection, hardened, his mind like a steel trap. It excited her. She didn’t see any reticence, no cowardice, no pious display of virtue which ultimately amounts to a lie. 

  
“Harley. Call me Harley.”

  
His scars stretched into a smile and his tongue flashed over his lip before he said, “ _Harleyy_ … Call me J.”

  
  
  



	2. Part 2

Her first session with Joker left Harley’s head spinning for days. They didn’t even talk about him at all. They talked about her. Her career, her position in the ranks at Arkham, her struggle to be more than an afterthought. She just let it happen. She didn’t really have any desire to try to steer the conversation in any direction other than where he wanted to go. If she wanted to get to know him better, she just had to let him talk. She thought he’d want to talk about himself, his actions, the damage he left behind, but he only asked her questions about herself. Though he never spoke about himself, he still made the conversation about him. He took her role as the therapist, the listener, the interpreter, the advocate, and turned it around. He put her in the hot seat instead. It made sense when she thought about it, its exactly what he did when questioned by the Commissioner. This really only intrigued her more.

She was tired. Tired of giving all she had and getting nothing back. Tired of being invisible, small, left in the shadows, always a fly on the wall, never getting her share. It was time for something new. _Time for some payback_.

“What do you think of when I say devil’s advocate?”

Joker chewed at his lip and darted his eyes up from the table top to gaze at her. She felt her face grow warm when he lifted his chin, letting his lip slip from between his teeth. He took and breath and answered, “Lawyers.”

Harley laughed louder than she intended to and his eyebrows suddenly shot up. She stopped herself, closing her mouth and tightening her lips to hold in her giggles, less than successfully.

He leaned in toward her, resting his restrained wrists on the table. Her heart thudded faster and her smile quickly dropped as the seconds passed and he remained silent, studying her from behind heavy eyelids. She’d convinced the guards she would be fine without them for their sessions, no guards, no recording. Maybe he’d open up more if they were left alone, she told them.

“What do _you_ think of, _Harley_?” he asked, dropping his voice deeper.

She blinked at him, her answer caught on the tip of her tongue. She kept her eyes focused on his face, her breath quickening as some feeling gripped her stomach tightly and the corner of her mouth curled into a crooked grin. There’s no going back, she wanted this.

“A jester,” she answered. “Always a patron for the devil.”

Joker chuckled through his nose and leaned back in his chair. “So she thinks she’s found the key to my heart, hm? Gonna find out what makes _this_ monster, uhh, _tick_?”

Harley’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head before answering, “Not my intention at all, Mister J.”

“Ahhh, _Mister J_? That’s a new one,” he giggled. The he paused, running his tongue along the inside of his scars as he searched her face for something he couldn’t seem to find before continuing, “Look doll, this, uh, _game_ we’re playin’ is fun and all. Bu-t, let’s get to the point.”

“I want to break you out,” she said abruptly.

His brow furrowed and he stared at her before bursting into a loud fit of laughter. Once he caught his breath he managed to say, “That’s a good one, doc. Verrry convincing.”

Her cheeks went hot but she kept calm, she should have expected a reaction like this. “I’m perfectly serious,” she replied.

“I’m sure you are.”

“And what makes you think I’m not?”

His expression went cold and Joker leaned in toward her again, close enough now that she could feel his breath. The knot in her belly tightened when he smacked his lips and said, “Now _where_ would I get tha-t idea? Hm?” jerking the chain connecting his wrists to the table with a clang.

She stared back at him, matching his severe eyes with her own. Her scowl morphed into an arcane little grin and she said, “Believe me or don’t, Mister J. I’ll see you next week.”

She suddenly stood and walked to the door to press the button next to it, a loud buzz breaking the tension in the air.

Joker licked his teeth, as if trying to swallow the venom he was ready to spit at her. “Ohh I’ll be here, doctor _Quinzel_.”

The door opened and she made eye contact once more before disappearing into the hall.

———

Harley had every intention of keeping to her word. Her time at Arkham was up, the hands on her own internal clock starting to move backwards. This place did nothing but drag her down. She’d show them just what she was capable of.

Six days had gone by and it was late, long past the time when her colleagues should have left. _Heading home sweet home to fill their bellies with processed food, their minds wiped clean by the blue glow of the television, lulling them off to a dreamless sleep so they can get up tomorrow and do all the same shit over again._ She took off her shoes before silently making her way down a hall and up a set of stairs. Approaching the door at the end of another hallway, she pulled a security officer’s badge from her pocket and swiped it in the card reader. The little red light flashed green and she quickly yanked the door open to slip behind it.

The room was dark. She took a small flashlight from her other pocket and clicked it on, keeping the beam toward the floor. On tip toe, she searched the room until she found a column of filing cabinets labeled “0800 – 0900”. She put the flash light between her teeth while she opened one of the drawers and thumbed past some folders before reaching a stack of sealed plastic packages. Her lips curled into a smile around the flash light and she picked one up to bring it into the light.

“INPATIENT 0801 PERSONAL EFFECTS, 1 OF 5”

Later that night, she sat at her kitchen table in her modest midtown apartment, staring at the bowl of ramen noodles in front of her, now gone cold. She sighed and shifted her eyes toward the brown paper bag she left by the door. Her fingers twitched and she could no longer stop herself, practically jumping from her chair to snatch the bag up from the floor.

She lowered herself onto her couch, tipping the bag’s contents onto the coffee table. Five sealed plastic packages tumbled out and she picked them up to have a closer look. She squinted at the label on the bag holding his brown shoes, “DRESS SHOES, MEN’S - CAUTION, WEAPON”. Her brow furrowed and she turned the package over to inspect them. On the sole of the right shoe, there was a small ridged lever nearly flush with the surface. Curiosity getting the better of her, she slid her thumb over it and pressed down. A sharp pointed blade suddenly shot out from beneath the toe, slicing through the plastic. Her eyes went wide and a smile crept onto her face before she chuckled loudly and gently ran the tip of her finger over the sharp point. Then another package caught her eye, “SHIRT, MEN’S, NO LABEL.”

Taking her lip between her teeth, she opened it. Her heart pounded as she took the fabric of his hexagon patterned shirt between her fingers. The smell of gasoline and sweat reached her nose and a tingle ran down her arms as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her face flushed and she swallowed thickly before abruptly dropping it, trying to ignore the heat now rising up inside her. Then she saw it.

Wrapped in a layer of bubble wrap, was a bundle of assorted knives. She began to breathe faster when she tore it open, carefully taking the handle of a black switchblade in her hand and holding it up to her gaze. The blade clicked out of the handle with a flick of the switch, the edge shining in the light from her living room lamp. The metal felt hot against her palm. That feeling she’d been carrying in the pit of her stomach suddenly reached into her chest and squeezed at her lungs.

She pulled in a sharp breath of air, fighting the cold sweat gathering on her forehead as she tightened her grip on the knife. Her body trembled in protest, like the knife was burning her, but she didn’t let go. She kept her eyes on the blade. She wanted to let it out, the beast clawing at her insides. It’d been growing for awhile now, ever since she first realized what was really going on at Arkham. A freak show, that’s all it was. A big, nasty display of chained baddies held there like trophies, just to let the world come press their noses against the glass. Then she met him and it only grew faster, stronger, hungrier.

Suddenly, his laugh rang in her ears and Harley unclenched her jaw to shout over the silence, raising her fist to drive the knife into the wooden table.

If she wasn’t sure before, she was now. Time to get the devil to come out to play.

———

_Poisonous animals are often brightly colored. It’s a warning for any would-be adversary. It says ‘hey if you bite me, I bite back’._

Well before dawn, Harley startled awake. She’d fallen asleep on the couch, Joker’s purple trench draped over her lap. She sat up, catching her breath, and blinked at the display of knives and ostentatious clothing in front of her.

She had spent most of the night going through Joker’s things. She couldn’t help herself. She pulled out his vest, his tie, his pinstripe pants, his coat. The smell of his filthy clothes was strangely intoxicating. She held up his coat and admired the color. Purple used to be worn exclusively by royalty. She supposed that was fitting, the irony of it, the jester becomes a crown prince. The suit, the paint, they were like his regalia. His display of deadliness.

Setting the coat aside and taking one of the knives in her hand, Harley stood and twirled its red and black handle between her fingers. The sharpness of the blade held a whole new allure for her. It made her feel something, some twisted excitement. The recklessness she’d been holding in, trying to stifle in some effort to suffocate it, began to grow, grow to a point where she couldn’t ignore it. Ever since she saw those tapes. It felt right. Not like some true calling, ‘this is your destiny’ sort of thing. More like the darkness at the end of a long tunnel. She’d followed the light for so long but only walked in circles. It was time to head in a different direction. It’s been there the whole time, it’s just never been this obvious before. Now there was face at the end of the tunnel, it had black-rimmed eyes and a blood red smile.

A strange sense of serenity followed her on her way into Arkham, a feeling like the calm before a violent storm. Harley drifted down the back hall, her eyes distant but focused ahead into the empty space in front of her. Her feet continued to carry her into a dimly lit elevator, the aged iron gate groaning as it closed. The cool air on the basement level raised goosebumps across her skin and she turned toward the long hallway to the isolation ward. She adjusted the duffle bag on her shoulder, then took smooth and deliberate steps down the hall, remaining silent as she approached the guard stationed at their place in front of the treatment room.

She cast a glance at him where he stood next to the door and he nodded before turning to walk down the hall. Taking a deep breath, she swiped her badge and pulled the door open at the sound of the buzz.

His gaze was on her the moment she entered the room. His expression was blank, void of any readable emotion. She supposed that was one of the things that people found so intimidating about him. His eyes zeroed in on you, like he could read your thoughts but you had no hope of reading his.

The burning in her chest swelled and Harley took a breath as she sat down across from him, cuffed in place at the table. “How’s your week been, mister J?”

He blinked slowly and ran his tongue over his lip before answering, “Ohh you know, took the yacht for a spin in the bay, indulged in a spa treatment or two, dinner on the veranda. Another week in, uh, _paradise_.”

A smile stretched across Harley’s face. She couldn’t help it. She usually had a talent for hiding how she felt, keeping people guessing. But now she couldn’t do it. It was funny, what she was about to do.

He tilted his head and stared at her before leaning in close, closer than before. His breath washed over her face where she sat, eyes focused intensely on hers. “Now, just _what_ are you smiling about, hm?”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, her heart fluttering and heat pooling in her core as she raised her hands from beneath the tabletop. In her right hand, she held a small key. She swallowed hard and carefully reached for his wrist. He didn’t move, remaining still aside from shifting his eyes down to follow her hands. His skin beneath her fingers set her nerve endings on fire, that heat rising up from inside her. Just like when she held his shirt to her nose, only hotter.

The key slid into the lock on the cuffs. A click and then they were left to lay on the metal table. Her hand was still holding his freed wrist when Joker’s eyes met Harley’s once again. She let go and started to move her hand away before he suddenly seized it, his long fingers now wrapped around her wrist in a tight grip. Her breath quickened and she stared into his eyes. She could only see herself, her reflection looking back at her.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he hummed, the sound rumbling in his throat. “You sure you wanted to do that?” he asked in a low rasp.

Harley nodded slowly, curling her fingers into a fist. Her pulse raced wildly while adrenaline surged in her veins, his close proximity nearly burning her. “I’m sure.”

Only a few seconds passed before she found herself pushed up against the padded wall, Joker’s chest pressed against hers, holding her there. She sucked in a gasp and blinked at his face, his nose within an inch of hers and his hands firmly planted on the wall on either side of her. He was like getting close to the edge of a tall cliff. There was a feeling, an urge from deep down, to jump. Or when you see a cobra at the zoo. You wonder what it would be like if the glass wasn’t there, if you could reach out to touch it. You know not to, its dangerous, even deadly. But now he was swallowing her up, taking over her senses, making her head spin, but keeping her so still. She wanted to dive over the edge head first.

“Tell me, doc. Is it, ah, _wise_ for the rabbit to enter the fox’s burrow?” he asked, his voice thick with toxic honey.

Her chest strained to expand, her breath mixing with his as she stared into his eyes. “Only if the rabbit has something to offer the fox,” she murmured.

He hummed in his throat, not taking his eyes off of hers, and growled, “ _Ohhh do tell_.”

Harley moved her hand from where her palm pressed against the wall to carefully point at the duffle bag on the floor. Joker shifted his eyes to glance at it and raised his eyebrows in suspicion. Then he pushed against her with added pressure and tightly gripped her jaw between his thumb and forefinger to bring his lips to her ear.

“I wouldn’t be playing games if I was you, _doll_.”

A shiver jolted down her spine and her back arched, bringing her body even closer to his. She felt his muscles stiffen, his breath hot on her neck where he hovered there without a sound.

“No games, J,” she huffed through heavy breaths, a smirk tugging at her lip. “Tell me, what does a caged fox want?”

Suddenly, he released her. She caught her breath as he seized the bag to drop it onto the table, sending the vacant handcuffs clattering onto the floor. “Open it,” he said plainly.

She took careful but conscious steps toward the table and wasted no time grasping the bag’s zipper to pull it open. Then she picked it up to turn it over, the contents spilling out onto the table. Her eyes snapped up to watch for his response as she held her breath. His gaze traveled the pile of his clothes and knives, his chained pocket watch on top, waiting there in front of him. His scars twitched and he reached for the black handle switch blade in the middle. His tongue ran over his lip at the click of the switch, the blade that shot out looking as though it was an extension of his own arm. A sharp tongue as well as a sharp hand.

Harley found herself in his gaze once again when he looked up from the knife blade, his piercing stare untamed from behind his heavy eyelids. She couldn’t seem to slow her breath. The excitement that had been building inside of her was approaching fever pitch. Then he started to laugh.

A chuckle started to build in his belly, growing louder before bubbling up out of his mouth. His cackle rang in her ears and she felt her heart pound. The sound reached out and wrapped around her throat, slowing the flow of air in a way that stirred up a thrill she’d never experienced before. His voice, the way he made her feel, it was becoming addictive.

The he sat in his chair and propped his heels up on the table. “Well isn’t this a surprise, _hm_? Now what does doctor Quinzel get out of this? She frees the beast from his cage and then what? _Frees the beast within_?”

She stared at him for a moment. He wasn’t wrong. She’d been holding back how she really felt about her job, her life, for a long time. There was a beast inside her, so to speak, and he’d coaxed it out. She wanted to let go, to set fires and throw punches, to step all over the people who’d stepped on her, to do it all with a smile on her face.

“That’s exactly it,” she said. “I get out of here too.”

He smirked and twirled the tip of the knife against his finger. “Mmm well you leave here _every_ night, doc. Not a very, uh, _compelling_ argument.”

“No.” She shook her head, approaching the table to sit on it and lean in toward him. “Harleen Quinzel never really leaves here. Her name, her work, her life, its all tied to this place. She’s a puppet that performs for a room full of men with their heads up their own asses that’ll _maybe_ leave her some scraps when she’s done. She’s stuck in this place where good intentions come to die. They say you’re the patients and we’re the doctors. No.”

Joker stared back at her, his expression like stone as he dropped his heels from the tabletop and her face neared his own as she continued to speak. “Being of sound mind is subjective, isn’t it? Well I’ve discovered that the world works the other way around. Harleen Quinzel doesn’t get to leave here, but Harley Quinn does.”

By then, her lips were so close to his that she could feel their heat. Something pulled her closer while still not letting her touch him, like she was waiting for a spark to jump between them.

“Harley _Quinn_ ,” he hummed, his breath warming her lips.

She nodded slowly while she kept her eyes on his, her skin on fire and nerves prickling with anticipation. They remained still, frozen in place, transfixed, caught in each other’s pull. “I break you out, I get to come too,” she said quietly.

“Is that _so_?” His voice dropped lower and she felt his hand sliding up her thigh. Heat and pressure knotted tightly in her core. Something snapped. Like the last thread that was keeping her tethered to the ground gave way. She let herself fall, taking a plunge into the darkness as she grabbed his collar and forced her lips against his.

He growled and pulled her onto his lap, gripping her waist tightly as she relished the way he tasted, her gluttony unbridled. His fingers wrapped around the back of her neck before he forced his tongue into her mouth, matching her voracity with his own that nearly sucked the air out of her lungs. A groan escaped her throat when he suddenly pulled his mouth away from hers to latch onto the soft skin of her neck.

“Be careful what you wish for, doll,” he purred, his nose grazing over her racing pulse.

Harley pulled in a sharp breath, her nails raking down Joker’s back. “I’m always careful.”

———

The sun was finally sinking below the horizon. Harley stood in the hall and watched the fiery orange orb where it hung in the sky, just above the crooked teeth of the skyline in the distance. Everything was ready.

The heat of Joker’s kiss lingered on her body, invisible trails burning down her neck, along her jaw. Nothing was certain, she wasn’t naïve, she knew she was taking a risk. The man she’d struck a deal with could easily leave her in the dust. _Et tu, Brute?_ The possibility that he’d betray her had certainly entered her mind already but she was taking her chances.

Ten minutes before their time was up, she’d re-cuffed him to the table, leaving him with a bite on his lip and a knife in his pocket. He kept his eyes forward, the heavy taste of blood and lust in his mouth as he was escorted back to his cell. Left alone once again in the dark padded room, the corner of his mouth curled upwards. A cable was running from the security camera on the wall to a laptop. Playing on a loop was footage of him lying in his bed, fingers laced together as he stared at the ceiling. On the floor next to it, the duffle bag full of his clothes and knives. A palate of white, black, and red greasepaint sat on top with a note, “See you tonight XO – Harley”.

She ran her tongue over her lip as the last bit of glowing light disappeared. _Show time._ Harley turned and walked down the hall, visions of the walls becoming engulfed in flames as rubble fell to the floor around her flashing before her her eyes.

“Have a good weekend, doctor Quinzel,” a voice said from across the hall.

A wide smile stretched across her face and she chuckled before answering coolly, “I will, doctor Sinner.”

His confused stare on his way out of the building didn’t follow her long before she locked the door to her office. She let her lab coat slip off of her arms and onto the floor before peeling away her slacks and blouse and tossing them aside. The professional attire was exchanged for a pair of ripped black jeans, slipped into red combat boots along with a form fitting shirt in her new chosen colors, tucked beneath a belt of bullets. She pulled a heavy maroon overcoat onto her shoulders and a pair of fingerless gloves over her painted nails. Staring into a mirror, she pulled her hair into braids and smeared white paint over her face. Black smudged around her eyes and covered her lips. _You bite me, I bite back._

Then she reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a large semiautomatic revolver. Releasing the cylinder, she slipped a bullet into each chamber and clicked the hammer back into place, then tucked it into her waistband. The corner of her mouth twitched at her reflection before she swiftly turned and picked up a baseball bat that leaned against the wall, resting it on her shoulder as she stepped into the now darkened hallway. She didn’t have as much experience with a gun, but she could swing a bat. _I knew softball practice would come in handy some day._

Her stride was light on the tile floor while she made her way to the back of the building. When she approached a corner, she flattened her back against the wall before leaning around the corner to see that the coast was clear. Then she looked up above her head at the camera high on the wall and quickly raised the baseball bat to silently nudge the lens upward to point at the ceiling before turning down the hall. The elevator to the basement was in her sight when she turned the last camera and the let the bat hang by her side as she approached it.

“Doctor Quinzel?”

Harley stopped in her tracks and shifted her eyes before slowly turning around to see Dr. Sinner standing in front of her in the otherwise empty hallway.

“What can I do for you, doctor Sinner?” she replied casually.

He furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak before he finally asked, “What are you doing?”

She smiled at him, her white teeth bright behind the black paint coating her lips. “Just out for an evening stroll, what’re _you_ doing?”

His disconcertment showed plainly on his face as she started to walk toward him and he backed into the wall behind him. “I, um. L-Look if this has something to do with that… that man, you gotta think this through. This is my department and –”

“Not a very smart one are ya?” she interrupted.

Sinner stared back at her and swallowed as he looked her in the eyes and she continued, “This isn’t about _you_. You have one talent and its sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong so do us all a favor, and keep it to yourself, k?”

He glared at her and replied, “You’re making a big mistake.”

“Didn’t ask you, did I?”

She leaned in toward him and lifted her bat to tap the wall next to his head. His breath got faster and eyes grew wider as she held him in her gaze

“Say hi to the wife and kids for me.”

Suddenly her knee made contact with his groin and when he hunched forward, she swung the bat to crack against the side of his head. Catching her breath, she stood and stared for a moment at his unconscious body laying on the cold floor. Tingles scurried over her hands and up her arms like sparks and she chuckled to herself, resting the bat against her shoulder before turning to board the elevator. This was already a lot of fun.

Dim florescent lights flickered in the hall toward Joker’s cell. Harley bit her lip, feeling that familiar heat rising up from her belly, and stepped forward. It felt as though she was moving in slow motion, but her mind at full speed. Like she had all the time in the world to make her next move. _First guard in three, two, one._

She rounded a corner and made eye contact with a guard who promptly fumbled to reach for the taser on his belt as she blew him a kiss before her bat came down hard on his head. He hit the ground with a resounding thud only a second later and she continued to make her way down the hall. Guard number two. He must have heard her, his gun drawn when he stepped out ten feet in front of her from behind a column. Harley raised her eyebrows at him in feigned surprise and stared at him. He shifted his gaze to avoid eye contact, sweat collecting on his brow. He didn’t seem to know what to do. _Perfect._ She took a sudden step forward, swinging at his trembling hand wrapped around the gun. He cried out as it fired down the hall, the sound ringing in his ears and rendering him momentarily stunned. Before he could react, the end of the bat collided with his chin, sending his head backwards until he hit the floor, flat on his back.

“Hey!”

Harley turned around to see guard number three, aiming squarely at her. “Can I help you with something?” she asked with a coy smile.

He didn’t hesitate to open fire. She quickly spun around to shield herself behind the cinderblock column, her heart pounding in her throat. Heat traveled to her cheeks and she breathed heavily. _There’s no way this asshole is ruining this for me._ Against better judgement, because who has time for that at this point, she yanked the revolver from her waistband and crouched down toward the floor before sliding out on her knees, firing toward the guard’s legs as bullets flew over her head. The sound of his wails echoed off the walls as she got to her feet to approach the guard where he laid on his side, clutching his bloodied knee.

“I asked if I could help you and that was the thanks I get?” she asked with sarcastic indignation.

He groaned and answered in a strained voice, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“ _Me_? What’s wrong with _you_?” she laughed.

“Crazy bitch!”

 _Oh that’s it._ Harley kicked his shoulder to force him onto his back before grabbing his gun from the floor and swinging her leg to stand over him. She knelt down and stared into his wide eyes as she brought the barrel to his temple. He froze and stared back his breath hitching in his throat.

“Easy way or hard way?”

He huffed a couple of breaths and answered, “E-Easy way.”

“Good boy,” she said. Then she quickly flipped the gun in her grip and smacked his temple with the handle.

Catching her breath, she ripped the badge from the guard’s uniform and grabbed her bat to take long strides to the end of the hall. The steel door was cast in shadow, as though they were housing the devil himself. She should feel nervous. She should be apprehensive. This was undoubtedly the most dangerous thing she’d ever done. But she loved it. She stopped caring about her career, her possessions, her life, and she wasn’t afraid. It sent a wave of excitement through her and she felt free. She didn’t have to trudge along like everyone else, everyday the same. She had a way out.

She swiped the badge in the door and pulled on the handle.

“What took you so long, doll?”

There he was. The face at the end of the tunnel. Black rimmed eyes and a blood red smile grinning at her. Dressed in his purple and green suit, leaning into the doorway.

The knot in her stomach unraveled and she smiled. “Just had to take care of a few things.”

He chuckled and took her chin in his gloved fingers as he inspected her from behind heavy eyelids.

“Took a page from your book. It’s quite effective.”

“I _like_ it,” he purred.

Her smile widened and time seemed to stop when alarms rang out through the halls, Joker taking her arm in his as they strolled through the emergency exit and out into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little requested one shot! It’s my own little rendition of a Nolan version of Harley Quinn, different from some other things I’ve written but a fun challenge! I’m always excited for comments so feel free to leave one if you like! ❤️
> 
> If you are following my long fic If You’re Good At Something, Never Do It For Free the *last* chapter is in progress!! I’m sorry it’s taking me so long 🥺 work life has been overwhelming over the past couple of months so I very much appreciate you bearing with me! I’m also planning a sequel for it so I can’t wait to share more with you all!!


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